Tree ringed coffee mugs

There is only one letter of difference in the spelling of the words "laughter" and "slaughter".  Yet their meanings are vastly different.  This reminds me of the often weighed tension of judging events as a blessing or a curse.

Hearsay says that the grass is always greener on the other side, but I met someone who has been there, and they said that grass was too much upkeep.

I started collecting coffee mugs so that I can sip down the memories from my life after I'm too old to do anything else.



I have this old shelf in my office that used to belong to my grandparents where I store my coffee mug collection.  The shelf is shallow, wobbly, and sometimes a nuisance.  But it's sentimental.

I wonder if coffee mug rings tell a story the same way tree rings do?

I've been thinking about my memories.  Those shaping types of tree ring patterns in my life that have brought me here and made me who I am.

Looking back at the patterns in my life, If I have learned anything, it's that I am an ill fit judge to judge such matters.  Was that event a blessing or a curse?  Only time can tell.  The results and ripples of it all are simply incalculable.  Too often something has seemed "good" one day only to seem "bad" the next.

So I try and remind myself with every passing tree ring season of my life, wobbly sentimentality and stained coffee mugs aside, I am not the judge.

Like 3 wishes from an imaginary genie.  I am not the judge.  The journey is my journey.  Thank God.